


Brother, let me be your fortress

by Airheart



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Season/Series 02, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-12 18:19:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11742552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airheart/pseuds/Airheart
Summary: Solus made a promise, that night in Onyx's nest





	Brother, let me be your fortress

When Solus was not training or working at the Lathe, she was usually to be found to the east, at Onyx’s nest; a shallow pit that was lined with mesh and malleable metals from what would come to be known as the Mithril Sea. She spent many of the downtime hours there, leaning against his side. Micronus and Optimus were often there, too, and Onyx curled himself around them all as they talked, or went over Maximo’s complex combat plans, or discussed weapons and armor that Solus might forge for them. The other Primes were always welcome to join them—Onyx’s throaty purr rumbled at a frequency that stimulated their immune and repair systems, rejuvenating them after an exhausting day of training, but the other brothers were too dignified to cuddle with their beastmaster, and so most of them never came. There were a few exceptions; one or two of Nexus’s components might recharge in the nest (but never the whole of him), or Amalgamous would sit at the edge, but those were rare occasions. Solus and Optimus remained Onyx’s most frequent visitors, second only to Micronus.

They were there particularly late one downtime cycle, Solus's handheld computer chirping relentlessly as she went over and over the plans that Maximo had drawn for them that day. Optimus sat nearby, kneeling between Onyx’s front legs as the beast peered over his shoulder at the diagram he was drawing, explaining Maximo’s complex directions.

“Much calculation,” Onyx said, a bit morosely. “Travel, time, space. It is very much.”

“It is,” Optimus agreed, “but it’s nothing we cannot handle. Don’t worry, Onyx. You do not need to do many calculations; the Saboteurs will see to that. You only need to be in the right place, at the right time.”

“You’ll get it, Onyx. Prima will drill it into our processors until we can do it blind and offline,” said Solus. She sat back on her heels, running a hand over the long cables on her head and making them clink. “It won’t be fun, but we will do it.”

Onyx dipped his head lower, resting his chin on Optimus’s shoulder. “It is very much,” he repeated. “Explain again. Slow.”

So Optimus did, and when Onyx sat in silence for a long minute afterwards, looking angry, he started over. He was as patient as ever, but after a few repetitions, he could not find a way to simplify his language any further, and Onyx’s purr had turned into a growl.

“Let’s act it out,” Optimus said quickly, getting to his feet. “I will be Unicron, and you be… well, yourself.” He climbed out of the nest and took up a point several meters away. “Find your position.”

Onyx crawled out of the nest, too, his wings held high and irritated, and considered the space between him and Optimus.

“Why here?” he asked, “Why not holosuite?”

Solus answered for Optimus, “Micronus and Trion are still cataloguing today’s data. The god program is offline for now.”

“And this is just so that you can get the movements figured out,” Optimus added. “Prima will expect that much by tomorrow.” He beckoned to Onyx. “Come, find your position.”

Onyx shook himself, his metal quills and feathers jingling musically, and he began to stalk around Optimus, picturing the formation and his place within it.

* * *

 

They stopped after an hour, but they got more done in that hour than they had in the several spent going over the plan verbally. The choreography made more sense to Onyx once he actually went through the motions, and he was in a much better mood when he and Optimus returned to the nest. Solus was laying in the middle of it, staring up at the stars.

“What do you see?” Optimus asked conversationally. He lay down beside her so that their shoulders touched, while Onyx settled in his favorite corner of the nest. Solus gestured vaguely.

“I wasn’t looking at anything. Just thinking,” she said.

“About?”

“Our weapons.” Solus sat up, and shifted around so that she could draw Optimus’s head into her lap. She put her hands on the sides of his helm, looking intently into his optics.

After a long moment, Optimus asked, “Solus?”

 “I’m thinking about what I may forge for you.”

“I am happy with what you give me,” said Optimus. “You do not need to go out of your way.”

“I want to. You are so humble, little one, always letting the others go before you.” Solus patted his head. “I must protect you. Would you like a gun, like Megatronus, or perhaps a sword?”

Onyx shook his head before Optimus could reply, and he said, “Little one is not suited to weapons. The peacekeeper of us. A shield.”

“You have already given me the Dark Energon skin,” said Optimus.

“Everyone got one of those.”

“Yes, and that is fair. I was created to be fair.” Optimus looked past Solus, up at the stars for a moment. Then he smiled at her. “Besides, your time is better devoted to working with the Warriors and their weapons.”

Solus stroked his cheek with her thumb, looking fondly at him. “One day, I will create something wonderful for you,” she said. “I don’t know what, but it will be beautiful, like you.”

“And I will cherish it,” Optimus said, and Solus smiled. 

* * *

 

It was a lifetime later, and Smokescreen was putting the Forge into Optimus’s hand as Optimus lay dying. Optimus did not want it. The star inside it was dim, close to burning out, and it would be better to use its last strikes on Cybertron, but Smokescreen would not take it back. He put his hand on Optimus’s, closing the Prime’s weak fingers around the Forge’s handle.

 “We can make a new home here, but we can’t make a new you,” Smokescreen said, his voice nearly breaking. He lifted the Forge with Optimus, and let it fall heavily onto his battered chassis. It struck with a rich, clear ring, a sound that Optimus had not heard in millennia.

_One day, I will create something wonderful for you._

Energy surged through him, hot and crackling, creating metal and Energon as though from nothing. The pain disappeared from his body in an instant, and he felt strong, stronger than he ever had. His nerves tingled and his Spark glowed blindingly bright.

_I don’t know what, but it will be beautiful, like you._

Smokescreen gaped as Optimus stood in a new body; taller, heavier, more powerful than ever. He still held the Forge in his hand, though it was nothing more than a hammer now. The star inside was dead, as was she. Solus would never wield it again, but she had kept her promise. 

_And I will cherish it._

 

 

 

 


End file.
